Like mother like son
by ElleU
Summary: Alternate universe. Alanna the squire is pregnant. This is the story of her son, Thom. Someone asked me to change the summary, so I did, r&r and hopefully enjoy.
1. Boys don't cry

I know there are many what-if fics out there, but I've never seen one that has the same line as this. I only own "Little Thom", the "forest people" and the plot the rest belongs to Tamora Pierce one of my absolute favorite authors. This is my first TP fic so please be kind, but I still appreciate constructive critic. Since I'm a Dane and I read the Alanna stories in Danish there are somethings I have no idea what is called. For example the amulet. Please help me out here...  
  
This story takes place in the book In The Hand Of The Goddess and changes the story line completely. Alanna is about seventeen and a half years old.  
  
Sorry about blabbering away, now read the story:  
  
  
  
Prologue:  
  
Alanna of Trebond woke up in the early morning to go to the squire lessons. She was about to wake Jon up when she realised something was missing. Something important. Scared to death she began searching. At last she found it; the amulet that should prevent her from getting pregnant. She fastened it around her neck with the thought that nothing had happened and shook the prince awake.  
  
  
  
Two months later:  
  
Alanna of Trebond felt sick. She'd felt like this for some time now. Ever since... And her cycle seemed to have stopped. She decided to go see Eleni Cooper later the same afternoon.  
  
  
  
Eleni Cooper's hands slipped her hands around Alanna's womb.  
  
"I'm sorry, child. But you are definately carrying a child."  
  
"But... I'm not ready to be a mother. What can I do?" Alanna was desperate. The child would be born before she had any chance to become a knight. And the father would take her freedom. Then she took a decision. For the first time in her life Alanna of Trebond decided to run away. She may not be a knight but she was still a great warrior. She'd find someone to serve. "Madame Cooper could you please send a letter for me?"  
  
"Yes, child."  
  
Alanna wrote it quickly:  
  
Dear brother.  
  
I have to leave. Don't ask why. Come to the capital to protact Jonathan for me.  
  
Yours always  
  
Alanna.  
  
  
  
BOYS DON'T CRY  
  
The ten-years-old readhead, Thom, looked at the woman in front of him. She was pale and fragile. Her long, read hair covered the white, bruised skin of her face and her violet eyes were closed. Thom was exhausted. He'd spend days trying to heal her, but nothing seemed to work.  
  
"Mother," he whispered.  
  
"Yes, --- my son." The voice was so low he could hardly hear it. It was clear to him that every single word was hard for the woman to say.  
  
"What will happen to me now?"  
  
"You ---- will go -- to the castle of Corus -- to be trained as --- a knight."  
  
"But Mother. I'm not noble."  
  
"Go help -- old Stefan - in the --- royal - stables. Someone – will see ---- your potential."  
  
"But Mother..."  
  
"No but --- I'll die tonight. --- Leave me --- to my --- destiny, -- son." Her white, weak hand offered him slowly, trembeling her sword and a jewel of some kind. Thom felt her slip away to the hands of the Black God. (Author's note. I have no idea if that's what he's called in English – just a guess). He held her hand as she left, but hid his pain deep down. Boys don't cry! He went out of the cave to face the forest people outside. His mother had been one of their respected warriors. He knew he could be too, but his mother wanted him elsewhere. He slipped the jewel around his neck and placed the sword in his belt. (What is the name of Alanna's sword?")  
  
"What are you going to do now?" asked the chief.  
  
"I'm going to Corus!"  
  
  
  
Two weeks later:  
  
Thom looked around lost. He had no idea of in what direction to find the castle. The city was huge. Suddenly a man appeared behind him.  
  
"You seem lost, young one." The man tall with brown hair and eyes. He had to be around forty.  
  
"Actually I am. Could you tell me where to find the castle?" Thom looked at the man. He looked like a scoundrel, but something about him made Thom want to trust him.  
  
"If you tell me your name."  
  
"It's Thom."  
  
"Thom? Thom what?"  
  
"Just Thom. And you?"  
  
"George Cooper."  
  
"Could you tell me how to get there now?"  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"Because I want to go there!" Thom felt his anger pour through him. He had always had problems controlling his temper.  
  
"Calm down, calm down. That way." George Cooper pointed left and quickly explained the way. "I like you, lad. Why don't you come visit me in "The Dancing Dove" some time?"  
  
"Some time."  
  
"Just ask for the Rougue."  
  
"Okay. Bye."  
  
  
  
The castle was impressing. To say the least! Thom found himself just letting his saphire eyes keep looking at it until a boy asked him what he wanted.  
  
"I need a job," Thom answered.  
  
"I believe Stefan said he needed some help. In the stables."  
  
"Great. I like horses."  
  
"It's a hard job."  
  
"I'm used to hard work."  
  
  
  
Thom got the job. But in the little sparetime he had he found himself looking longingly at the pages and squires training. He felt like that was where he belonged, just like his mother had said. Then one day one of the older pages approched him. He was strong and bad-looking.  
  
"What are you looking at, horse servant?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," Thom answered, trying to keep his temper under control.  
  
"You have a sword."  
  
"So what?"  
  
"That's for nobles only. Give it here!"  
  
"NEVER!"  
  
"You probably stole it while nobody was watching. Now give it here." The boy was looking at him almost lazily with his small, pig-like eyes.  
  
"How dare you acuse me of stealing?!"  
  
"I dare what I like, worker." With that Thom's fist was out and the page was lying on the ground, bleeding. Other pages and squires were approaching to watch the fight until a man neared them.  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Sir, but this... this boy has stolen somebody's sword."  
  
The man looked straight at Thom who gazed angrily back.  
  
"Who are you, boy?"  
  
"My name is Thom, Sir," Thom answered, still gazing bad-tempered at the man.  
  
To his big surprise Thom heard the man laugh under his beard. "It's almost like having Alan back," he grinned. Suddenly his laugh seemed fake. He looked like he shook sorrow off of him before looking at Thom again. "Thom what?"  
  
"Just Thom, Sir. Pardon me, but what is your name?"  
  
"I'm Raoul of Goldenlake."  
  
"'K. Who was Alan?" At the time the words escaped Thom's mouth, he knew he should've never asked. The knight turned bitter and without thinking he hit Thom hard in the head. Thom stumbled and fell. He was fighting his tears. His mother would've never let such things happen to him. She'd never hit him, not even when she lost her temper on him. Never! But his mother was not there to protect him anymore. He got up and ran back to the stables muttering his mantra: "Boys don't cry, boys don't cry..."  
  
  
  
From that day on Thom had to get used to the pages and squires picking on him. He would get into trouble from starting a fight, so there was nothing he could do. The day he slipped was several weeks from the encounter with Sir Raoul. There was a boy watching the page and squire training. He seemed to be around seven years old. He had black hair and his eyes were green as emerald. The big squire from before went to Thom to get through to him again.  
  
"Hey. Here we have the son of a whore again!" he yelled to his fellow pages. Thom felt a white anger rush through his veins. He had never been so calm yet so angry before.  
  
"Don't you dare insult my mother," he whispered. "You may insult me as much as you like, but don't ever insult the dead. Especially not my mother, she was a great woman!"  
  
The page seemed to be taken aback by Thom's calmness.  
  
"The sword belonged to her! If you ever say anything like that again I swear I'll kill you!"  
  
"You are only a stable boy. You can't fight."  
  
Thom eyes the boy. He was about twice as big as Thom, but he was fat and slow and he overestimated his own skills. "Wanna bet?"  
  
"What!?"  
  
"I said: you wanna bet I can fight you and win?"  
  
"You couldn't"  
  
"I'll take that as a "yes""  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Thom dropped his belt and boots. He never noticed the red-haired man who was watching. The page yelled the usual number of insults as the boys circled around eachother. Thom kept quiet, concentrating on his opponent. He shot out his fist and hit the boy on his nose yet again and was about to kick him in the stomack when a very young voice interrupted.  
  
"Stop!" It was the young black-haired boy. Authority shone from the child, as he looked stubbornly at them.  
  
"His Highness is right," said the man. "You should not be fighting in Prince Roald's presence." The page kneeled and mumbled a "Sorry, You Highness." Thom's brows shot confused up.  
  
"You, boy," the man said. "Follow me."  
  
Please please review I want to know what you mean about the story. See y'all later.  
  
Danie. 


	2. Uncle

Thanks to all of you who reviewed. I really appreciated it. Alanna sent Thom (her brother) to protect Jonathan, so basically Jonathan is still alive and so is Roger.  
  
From now on I'll try to update every weekend, so it'll be easier to follow.  
  
To Radella who says Alanna would never run away the reason now is she now the father of her child would make her a lady and lock her into the castle. That's not what she'd want, is it?  
  
  
  
UNCLE  
  
Thom follewed the red-head into the castle. He was surprised by how much the man looked like him and his mother. Except for the man and Thom's mother having violet eyes and Thom having blue, that is. At last Thom decided to ask:  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Perhaps I should ask you the very same question," the man said.  
  
"I'm... I'm Thom, Sir." Thom looked at the other. He confused him. He saw the man freeze in surprise.  
  
"Thom?"  
  
"Yes, Sir"  
  
"Thom what?" This gets boring, Thom thought. Nobody seemed to accept that he had no last name.  
  
"Just Thom."  
  
"Just Thom?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Who is your father?"  
  
"Noone."  
  
"Noone?"  
  
"I don't have a father" Thom sighed. Was it really so hard to understand?  
  
"You're an orphan?"  
  
"Yes. Ever since Mother died." The words ached. He wanted to accept his mother being ded, but it was possibly the hardest thing he'd ever done.  
  
"Who was your mother?"  
  
"Anna of the Forest People."  
  
"The sword you have. It's familiar to me. Where'd you get it?"  
  
"I didn't steal it," Thom cried. Nobody seemed to trust him here. Nobody trusted an uncivilised orphan. "It belonged to Mother."  
  
"You are quite a good fighter, boy." Thom looked at the man. His violet eyes told Thom this man was not interested in his fighting abilities. There was something about him... Thom went into himself and dragged out his Gift. Slowly, untrackable –he thought - to even one of the most powerful sorcerers in the World, he let it see the man. His Gift was great. And well- trained. This man was definately a sorcerer.  
  
"Like you'd care," Thom muttered under his breath.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mother trained me," Thom explained.  
  
"Your mother was a warrior?"  
  
"A great warrior!"  
  
"Who taught you how to use your Gift?"  
  
"Shit! Ehm, sorry. I shouldn't have..." Thom tried to explain. He would've never tested the man if he'd know he'd be able to track it.  
  
"All right. Where'd you learn it?"  
  
Thom felt this was the right time to change the subject. "You never told me your name."  
  
"It's Thom. Thom of Trebond."  
  
"Strange."  
  
"Yeah. Where'd you learn to use your Gift?"  
  
"Mother. And the sorcerer of the Tribe."  
  
"Your mother had the Gift?"  
  
"Yes," Thom answered, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the conversation. "Where are you taking me?"  
  
"I just wanted to talk to you. Are you sure your mother's name was Anna?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"What did she look like?"  
  
"Like me... No actually. Like you. When she died I was almost as tall as her. I'm tall for my age, she was small. And her eyes were like yours." Thom was wondering. What did this Thom want from him? Why couldn't he just leave Mother alone and out of this?  
  
"I believe I knew your mother once," the man said as if he'd read Thom's thoughts. Thom felt surprise rise in him. Someone who'd know Mother before she bacame Anna of the Forest People?! But the man's looks bothered him. Under the expensive, purple robes that were as different from Mother's brown, worn-out ones, he wasn't very tall and he looked very much like Mother in many ways. As much as a man could look like a woman, Thom thought. And the name... Could he be named from Mother's relative?  
  
"Are you Mother's relative?" Thom could see the man was taken aback from his question.  
  
"I believe I am," said the man after a while. "The sword, did your Mother have a name for it?"  
  
"Lightning." Thom was confused. Why was Lightning important?  
  
"I think your mother was my sister." The man, Thom's uncle it seemed, said. For some weird reason the news didn't surprise him, so he just nodded in response. "That makes you a Trebond. I know this all comes as a surprise for you as well as for me, but I feel I owe your Mother to adopt you."  
  
"Don't adopt me because you owe Mother something," Thom said. Mother had always smiled at him and said he had the pride of a nobleman. She'd had that too, but he never commented it. She already knew.  
  
"I miss your Mother and your the only link left to her, I think. It comes all of a sudden, but I really want to." Thom was shocked. Someone wanted him! He felt something pull him towards the man.  
  
"If you promise me I'll be a knight."  
  
"As a nobleman that'll be no problem."  
  
"But... Who is my father?"  
  
  
  
How did you like it? I know it's very short, but I really have no time for this right now. See y'all later. 


	3. Father

So… here's the new chapter. Hope you'll like it. By the way – very, very please review.  
  
Some of you said Roger = no Jon. As I said I disagree, what I say is no Alanna = no Thayet.  
  
See disclaimer in previous chapters.  
  
Thom the younger of Trebond flattened the blue coat around him. His red hair was combed with water for the occasion and Lightning hung by his side. His uncle was out there, waiting to introduce him. He heard voices through the half-shot door.  
  
"Your Majesties, I am here to get you to bless my adoptive son, Thom the younger of Trebond."  
  
"Let us see him," said a man's voice. Thom knew that was the signal. He could come out now. He was about to run his fingers through his lengthening hair, when he thought better of it. Then he went out... and wished he hadn't. Everybody had their eyes turned towards him.  
  
"Come on, Thom," he muttered to himself. "Just get it over with." He went to stand witt his uncle. "Uncle I hate parties," he whispered.  
  
"That is not something you should be saying in the precense of their Majesties."  
  
"There are so many things I'm not allowed to do here."  
  
"You are so like your mother." Uncle Thom sighed. "This is my Thom," he said to two people sitting at the high table. Thom looked up and caught a set of eyes as saphire blue as his own. He fought the urge to look away, and when the man let his Gift examine Thom, he threw it away, stubbornly.  
  
"There sure is Trebond blood running through the child's veins," he said. "Who was his parents?"  
  
"He is the son of my dead brother Alan," Thom the elder said. Thom was confused. Who was Alan? And wasn't he the son of Thom's sister, Alanna? Then it dawned to him... Alan/Alanna. No noble girl was allowed to become a warrior. His mother had dressed like a boy to become a knight! So Alan and Alanna was the same person. The king looked at him, caught by surprise.  
  
"I want to speak to the child alone, get him to my library."  
  
Thom went in. Even under the warm, embroidered coat he was trembeling. He was scared. Something told him this was going to change all of his life and give him a whole lot of duties he didn't want. In a big chair, with his back turned to Thom, the king sat. The chair turned and blue met blue in a stubborn stare, which Thom refused to break.  
  
"We both know Alan is a lie," the king said, loud and clear. This confused Thom. No matter what he'd expected, this wasn't it. He just nodded. "Alanna was your mother?" This shocked Thom even more. He hadn't known his mother's real name until just lately. And even then he thought only his uncle knew that there had never been an Alan.  
  
"Yes, sir," Thom muttered. His stubborn jaw was set as he looked at Jonathan of Conté. "I mean Your Highness... No, no, no, no – Your Majesty," he corrected himself. "Pardon me, but I wasn't brought up to know court- life." He felt he could be completely honest with this man – the king. He didn't know why, he just felt connected. "And to be honest with you it doesn't iterest me. I sleapt through the few lessons uncle gave me." To his surprise the king laughed. But as he laughed it began sounding fake – just like it had with Sir Raoul of Goldenlake. Thom was surprised to see a tear glimpsing in the corner of Jonathan's eye. Thom let his hand touch the stone he'd fastened around his neck. Even though his mother could not be there to support him, this stone felt like a part of her... and a part of something bigger. "What?," he said apologetically, as he realised the king had spoken to him.  
  
"I asked you if you know who your father is?" The expression on the kings face was unreadable. His eyes – so like Thom's – seemed far away, lost in the past, his jaw – like Thom's as well – was as stubborn as ever.  
  
"I don't know," Thom muttered.  
  
"Would you like to know?" What a weird question! But... Did he want to know. He had the feeling the knowledge would take a part of his freedom away, but... he also wanted the truth. When he didn't answer the king looked more examining at him. "You are afraid to know the truth because it's already dawning to you. I knew you mother in quite an... intimate way. Not anything I'd like to talk to you about until you grow older, but..." The king's trail of words stopped. Thom could see his pain – almost feel his pain. He stopped himself. He shouldn't feel the kings pain. He remembered how much it had hurt to loose his mother – all just because he'd let her get close. He pushed the pain radiating from Jonathan of Conté away and looked at him again. The intimate way? It slowly dawned to him, ike it had with his uncle. He felt no surprise, none at all.  
  
"You are my father!"  
  
Short and actionlees I know, but I'll make up for that next time. See you in next week-end.  
  
Danie. 


	4. A New Life

Here I am again! Hope you like this new chapter. Disclaimers in prev chapters. As always – please review. I love it when I go check and see what you think of the story.  
  
  
  
A NEW LIFE  
  
Jonathan of Conté sat in the library. His thoughts drifted back in time; back to Alanna. How worried he'd been when she was missing; how Thom had come and told them that Alan had died; how Jonathan in despair had had to choose a wife: Delia. He'd had no choice. Even though his heart was forever with Alanna, he had had to marry and give the country an heir to the throne. Roald had been born one and a half year after Alanna's disappearence. Yes obviously it had only been a disappearence. And now, right in front of him, was his illigimate child, the reason Alanna had run away. Jonathan did not know if he should hate the boy, or love him with all the love he'd always figured he'd give Alanna's child. After a while of thinking he smiled at the boy; his son.  
  
Thom looked at the king; his father. What was going to happen now? Could he still become a knight? Or would the king have to hide him? "Er... Your Majesty, I was wondering..."  
  
"Don't call me "Your Majesty". I'm your Father, and that'll fit as long as we're alone."  
  
Thom tried hard, but the emotions passed over his fathers face so quickly that he was unable to catch them. "Okay, Father." It felt weird, but also... fitting? "Can I still be a knight?"  
  
"Off course. And for now you'll stay with Thom. Since Alanna was disguised as a boy, there'll be way too many things to explain, so I'll wait until I know what to tell everyone.  
  
Thom quickly shoved the Duke that he could fight; it was what he'd been trained to do for all of his life. He was the youngest page, but the best. After a couple of months of training, he decided to do as that man, George Cooper, had suggested. He went to the Dancing Dove. It was a small, quite dark place, but he quickly asked some of the men where to find the Rogue.  
  
"Hello, git," said a voice. Thom grinned. Now that he saw the man in his natural surroundings, it was clear to him, that he was hardly in the middle of his thirties, let alone fourty.  
  
"Hi, Rogue," said Thom in loss of better.  
  
"How's everything going?"  
  
"Weird. Just some months ago I was just Thom, an orphan. Now I'm Thom the younger of Trebond. My biological uncle!" It felt easy to talk to the stranger.  
  
"And...?"  
  
What do you mean?" Thom was confused. How could this stranger know?  
  
"I know King Jonathan. I knew Alanna. Jon told me about you. Sorry 'bout your mother."  
  
"That's okay."  
  
"How's your page training going?"  
  
"It's pretty easy. Everything we are learning, mother taught me years ago."  
  
"She was a great warrior. And a great woman." Thom tried to look through him, but found that he was shielded by the Gift, which he obviously had too. But Thom could see the loss in the eyes of the thieve. Here was yet another person, who loved his mother.  
  
It had been good to talk to the Rogue, who obviously knew Alanna in way nobody else did. Not even Thom's father.  
  
Thom sat in the library, reading. His mother had always insisted on him learning to read and write and to do math. He never truly understood why, since none of the other Forest People could do that. Now he understood! The homework was building it's way up to drown him. He was never able to get everything done. Suddenly he heard the sound of somebody entering the room. He turned around to looked straight into the emerald eyes of his oldest half-brother, Prince Roald.  
  
"Hi," said the younger boy.  
  
"Hi," said Thom, getting back to his homework.  
  
"I... er... Do you think you could help me with this?" He pulled out a book of math.  
  
Thom smiled, glad at this chance of getting to know his brother. "Off, course, Highness." He couldn't afford to forget his ettiquettes.  
  
"Thank-you." Thom and Roald spend the evening – and many others - together, making home-work. Thom grew to like the prince, who didn't really know his family. The King wasn't really easy to reach. Thom knew this was partially because of his mother, partially because of the many duties of being a king. And the Queen was just... Delia of Conté. That was probably just how she was, but she didn't seem to really care about her children. Roald just let Thom in like that, letting him be the big-brother he actually should've been.  
  
Short. I know that, but until I write something next weekend, perhaps you could R&R my other, up-comming TP story, "Dreamer", which is loosely related to LMLS. It will be more in time. See you soon.  
  
Danie. 


	5. Brother

A/N: That took so long, but to tell the truth I've had the infamous writer's block along with a bunch of exams, friends to take care of (24/7 since I'm attending boarding school), and some not-ff.n-work to attend to. I'll try to get my-self together, and since this is the story you guys seem to like best - I think I do too - I'll focus on it. Reviews along with constructive criticism are as appreciated as always.  
  
Disclaimer: This applies for all further chapters of this story. I do not own the Tortall universe or the persons in it. What you do not recognize - the plot included - belongs to Tamora Pierce and her publishers and probably a bunch of other people. I am not making any money from this, simply trying to become a better author and to entertain others and myself. (A/N: that sounded so adult. I surprise myself some times. LOL).  
  
Enjoy your read.  
  
Brother A month after the latest chapter. Thom was watching Roald struggle with his algebra, casually running his fingers through his straight black hair. The boy had a great mind, but he was easily distracted. "Thom," he said in a desperate voice. "Would you please explain this to me?" "Sure, Highness." "Please stop calling me that, Thom. I would like to call you my friend and if I had any friends I would've wanted them to call me Roald." "'K... Roald." The statement took Thom aback, but he knew it was true. Roald wasn't quite old enough to be a page meaning there were nobody his age in the castle and he was far more mature than his younger brothers who were turning out to be good-for-nothing, quite evil-minded small boys. Thom's brother certainly needed a real friend. And Thom wanted his brother.  
  
6 months after. "Would you like to come downtown with me if I can get us time off. There is someone I want you to meet." There sure were. Thom and the boy he met down at Dancing Dove had become great friends. They were much alike and in a strange way Samuel (A/N: you have to read "Dreamer" - my other TP fic to know the details about Samuel, but basically he's a young thieve who works for George Cooper) reminded Thom of his mother. "I would love to. Do you want me to ask Uncle Gareth?" (A/N: these are the times before that annoying git, Wyldon or something, takes his place.) "Yes."  
  
**  
  
Thom went down the narrow roads of the capital city with the young crown prince, now clad in plain clothes with his black hair hanging down his green eyes. He was obviously nervous, but you had to know him well to see it. Finally they reached the Dancing Dove and went in. Samuel was sitting alone at a table, wearing a dreamy expression on his face, a glass of lemonade standing untouched in front of him. Samuel had always been a dreamer, but he was very sensitive, and Thom could almost feel how he ripped himself out of his thoughts after sensing the presence of his friend. "Hi Sammy!" Thom smiled cheerily at his friend. "Thom! Do you want me to find his Majesty?" "No that's all right. I'll talk to him later. This is my friend Ronny." Roald stuck out his hand, a bit shaky at being away from the protective walls of the castle. Thom put a hand on his shoulder and used his Gift to shelter his brother's in order to protect him from the search Sammy would always put strangers through. Samuel shook the hand of the younger boy and motioned for them to follow him to the table. After a while of drinking lemonade and talking a bit they were interrupted. "Thom! You're here?" Thom turned to face the hazel eyes of George Cooper. "Hi Rogue." "So you just come down here not even saying hi to you. You certainly inherited her manners." Thom didn't have to ask who "she" was. He didn't doubt her identity for a moment. "I was just catching up with Sammy," laughed Thom. "I see. Who have you brought?" "I'm Ronny," said Roald, now a bit surer of himself as these people seemed to accept him. "I'm the Rogue, but Thom's friends are my friends, so you can call me George or Cooper or Rogue or whatever you'd like." Roald appeared to be thinking for a while, then smiled. "I think I'll use Rogue like Thom does, thank you." "Great. Thom, could I have a word?" The Rogue looked at Thom with a tense look in his eyes. "Sure. Will you be okay Ronny?" Roald bit his lip, then nodded. He trusted Thom - actually he idolised Thom - so if he trusted these people, so would the young prince. Besides - he liked Samuel.  
  
"So Thom... am I correct if I assume that boy is your little brother?" "Yes. Is that what you wanted to see me about?" Thom raised his brow as if daring the older man to come up with something better. "No. I'm afraid I've got some serious news I want you to bring to your father." "Yes?" "The Rogue of Carthak recently brought me the news that Carthak is attacking again. He will bring news when he gets to know more about their positions and all, but I want Jonathan to be prepared." "I'll tell him." "Thank you. Now get home before it gets dark and we have to escort you back to the castle." "Yes, Rogue."  
  
The sun was setting behind the temple quarters, creating a beautiful dim glow in the horizon. Suddenly Thom tensed. He was feeling something strange, dangerous. "Roald, watch out!" yelled he, but was too late. A lot of men had surrounded them and one of them was holding Roald's small figure, preparing to get away with him...  
  
Cliffie... sorry. I have just always wanted to make a cliffhanger. I'll post next chapter the weekend after I get 40 reviews - I promise. (Notice: hint). Danie:) 


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